


I wish I could synthesise

by OTP_Malec_Shipper



Series: Scomiche Oneshots [6]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 14:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12534196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTP_Malec_Shipper/pseuds/OTP_Malec_Shipper
Summary: Where Mitch continuously builds and rebuilds his picture perfect guy, also known as Scott Hoying.





	I wish I could synthesise

‘A picture perfect guy,’ Mitch mused.

_6 feet tall._

_Super strong._

He sighed as he inserted the same key words into the programs for the 10th time. He was missing something, he knew it.

‘Jenna,’ he called out. Jenna appeared, looking as confused and frightened as always. Mitch sometimes wondered why he kept her around, and then shrugged and decided to not care. She could at least make herself useful this time.

‘What would you name a six feet tall and super strong blond guy? As much of a cliché white guy name as possible, thanks.’

She looked confused. ‘Sir, is this the only thing you need? Because I’ve been handling the explosive material over there and I would much rather _not_ leave it in the hands of anyone else.’

Mitch blinked. Oh _that’s_ why he hired her. She had mad skills. Good to know.

‘Oh, _that’s_ why I hired you,’ he muttered to himself.

‘Excuse me?’

‘I was wondering why I hired you,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘And then I realized you have mad skills. _That’s_ why I hired you, isn’t it?’

‘…Sure?’

Mitch waved her away, and she walked away, obviously confused. Mitch didn’t spare her a second glance, already lost in his thoughts in search of a name for his picture perfect guy.

His resulting epiphany laughtm left all his assistants with nightmares for years.

_Scott Richard Hoying (?)_

_Blue eyes._

_Blond hair._

He entered the keywords on the programming and pressed enter, certain it would work this time.

He grinned maniacally, feeling certain that he would create his picture perfect guy.

***

‘Welcome to the world of the living, Scott Hoying,’ Mitch said, his face taking on an excited smile, his mind reeling with his success.

‘Hi.’ Scott replied, and he had the most gorgeous voice he had _ever heard._ ‘I’m Scott.’

‘I’m Mitch,’ he introduced himself.

‘You’re pretty,’ he replied back.

And immediately collapsed on top of him.

‘Shit,’ he said. ‘Well, that didn’t work. Okay, clean him up!’ He walked away, wondering what had gone wrong.

He was proud of Scott.exe version 10. (Even if he didn’t have a name during his previous versions, but meh.) Especially the part where he got caught by lightening. That was hotness overload if Mitch ever saw one.

Mitch twisted his hands together, and extracted Scott’s memories, determined to try again.

‘Okay, ladies, gentleman, and people who don’t identify as either,’ he said, manic smile in place. ‘Let’s get to _work.’_

***

_1 tattooed flower sleeve._

_1 normal arm._

_Muscles._

_2 exquisite legs._

He grinned and rubbed his hands together. He pressed _enter_.

Stood close to the glass that held his picture perfect guy to look at him one more time.

Then he turned around and pulled the lever. Dramatically, of course.

Then lightning struck.

Quite literally.

Mitch watched in satisfaction as his 99.57% perfect guy began manifesting in front of his very eyes. He opened his eyes.

Mitch gasped. His eyes were the bluest he ever saw. If this wasn’t love at first sight, Mitch didn’t know who it was.

‘Hi, Mitchy,’ he said, smiling. Mitch gasped. This _was_ his ideal man. He really hoped this version of Scott.exe was going to last for a _very_ long time.

‘Where, exactly am I?’ Scott asked, blinking and looking around him. He appeared unfazed by the amount of body parts –specially _his identical_ body parts – around him. Mitch couldn’t blame him for that. With the amount of times he had been broken and repaired (eighty eight, to be exact) Mitch was pretty certain that Scott’s memory was filled with uninteresting and occasionally interesting recollections of how he had been broken and been repaired again and again.

Scott seemed to have read his thoughts. ‘You never give up, do you?’

Mitch gestured at the lab that was surrounding him. At all the arms, heads, various bodily equipments he had gathered to repair Scott.exe. ‘Does this look like a lab of someone who would give up?’

‘I suppose not.’ Scott smiled softly at him, dimples appearing.

And Mitch suddenly knew that this was the one.

And that was when Scott’s arm fell off, revealing his complex web of machinery.

_That_ had never happened before. He looked at it curiously as his assistants all hurried to clear the mess of screws and bolts that lay before them.

Scott looked bemused, looking at the machinery with an increasingly puzzled look.

‘This never happened before,’ he muttered, saying exactly what Mitch was thinking. Mitch nodded absently, debating on the options that lay before him. He could dismantle this Scott and find out what was wrong with him, or he could just reattach the arm and pretend that this never happened.

He was leaning towards the second option.

He was beginning to enjoy this version of Scott’s company, and he didn’t want anything, _anything_ to stop this Scott’s personality and beauty that was so ideal to his own.

That was when this Scott collapsed on top of him.

‘ _Fuck._ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Clean this up and leave me alone for one second, I need to process this,’ he said, waving away all offers of condolences and sympathy noises that he did _not_ want.

Why couldn’t he get what he wanted, for once? All he ever wanted was this picture perfect guy, the guy of his dreams, and he got multiple errors in return.

He shook his head, dispelling all the negative thoughts from his mind.

He’ll extract the memory from this version of Scott and place it on the next version of Scott. It was as simple as that.

***

Mitch knew this was irrational, but the 89th version of Scott’s eyes weren’t _blue enough,_ the hair wasn’t _blond enough_ and he also felt that something other than the physical attributes were missing.

_I am 70% perfect!_

That was it. He had no personality at all.

‘Dismantle him.’ He said, not even bothering to talk to Scott.exe version 89.

‘But-‘

‘ _Dismantle him.’_

***

He discovered it quite by accident.

He was rummaging for something inside his massive closet when he heard footsteps coming towards the laboratory.

Mitch narrowed his eyes. He had explicitly told everyone –including his assistants- to _not_ come into this lab during this time. He wondered who was suicidal enough to try.

This closet was located near the end of the laboratory, hidden from site, so that when someone enters laboratory, you virtually couldn’t see who was hiding inside the closet. (Pun intended.)

Mitch slowly took his gun out, and edged out of the closet, always one for safety.

What he saw made him clench his teeth in fury. One of his _faithful_ assistants was rigging Scott.exe.

Mitch couldn’t help it. He saw red.

‘What the _fuck_ are you doing, you fucking moron?’ he said, aiming the gun straight at him.

He edged slowly away from it, not once believing that Mitch would actually pull the trigger.

‘I was going to –‘Mitch ran out of patience as he fumbled around for an excuse.

A shot was fired. Straight to the heart.

Mitch watched impassively as the life slowly drained out of him, an expression of permanent shock plastered on his face.

Mitch smiled sadistically at him and walked towards Scott.exe. He was intact, with only a minimal amount of work to be done to get him repaired.

Mitch managed a genuine yet off-kilter smile at Scott.exe.

Now he could _finally_ get to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Kudos?  
> Come say hi to me on [Twitter](twitter.com/scomicheftmalec)


End file.
